Cal walked into the bar.  He sat at a small table in a dark corner.

The piano man sat down.  He started playing just a few feet away from Cal.

The waitress came to take Cal’s order.  He ordered four shots of whiskey.  He hoped that would kill the pain, at least temporarily.  Then the piano man started playing that song; their song; her song.

“Play something else,” Cal demanded.

The piano man switched songs without pause.  Cal sat back.  He downed his shots.  He put his head in his hands.

The whiskey quickly went to his head.  He wasn’t a drinker.  He just couldn’t stand the pain but even the whiskey wasn’t deadening it.

He put money on the table, rose, stumbled.

“You okay, honey?” The waitress asked.

“I’ll never be okay again,” he said as he weaved toward the door.